


Devastation

by ozuttly



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Blood, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozuttly/pseuds/ozuttly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It ends quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devastation

The end comes far quicker than he expects. 

The battle rages for minutes, a lightening quick exchange of blows. And then, just as quickly as it all started - just as quickly as Ieyasu had taken lord Hideyoshi’s life, Mitsunari’s blade pierces the soft flesh of his throat. 

Ieyasu’s eyes widen ever so slightly as blood sprays into the air, staining Mitsunari red in front of him. And then he falls. 

Mitsunari stares, his hands shaking from rage or something else, Ieyasu isn’t entirely certain. He stands, stock still, his blade still outstretched as Ieyasu hits the ground with a loud thump, blood spilling out from the wound and onto the dirty ground below. The sound should have been more wet, Ieyasu muses, somewhere in the back of his mind. There’s far too much blood; he can feel it in his throat and lungs, and every time he tries to draw in a breath, there’s a wet rattle as red seeps out his throat. 

He doesn’t register Mitsunari’s hands on him until he feels himself being shaken, sees a blurry outline of Mitsunari’s rage-stricken face in front of him. But, it’s wrong. There’s something there that isn’t rage, that isn’t anger, and it’s the first time in so long that Ieyasu has seen it, that it brings the slightest of smiles to his face. 

He can see Mitsunari’s mouth moving, but he can’t hear his voice. There’s desperation in his eyes though, blurry as they are, and Ieyasu can feel it washing over him in a haze as those fingers clutching his shoulders dig deep into his skin. 

It’s like you don’t want to let go, he thinks, but the words don’t come out of his mouth. 

He’s still bleeding, and there’s a wet gurgle as he tries to draw in air to speak. 

Wetness falls on his cheeks, and he’s not sure where it comes from.


End file.
